APOLLO and DAPHNE. An EPIGRAM.

APOLLO and DAPHNE.

An EPIGRAM.

WHEN Phoebus was am'rous, and long'd to be rude, Miss Daphne cry'd Pish! and ran swift to the wood, And rather than do such a naughty affair, She became a fine laurel to deck the God's hair.

The nymph was, no doubt, of a cold constitution; For sure to turn tree was an odd resolution! Yet in this she behav'd like a true modern spouse, For she fled from his arms to distinguish his brows.